Churchyard Sins
by jensensfreckles
Summary: When a demon case in Monticello, NY takes a horrifying turn, true emotions come to light involving Dean and their newest addition, Thalia. (Set during season 9)
1. This Isn't the Same

_I__ looked over at him; his eyes were a shiny obsidian, clouded by the creature that resides inside of his mind and body. I slowly stepped away until my back met the cool, brick walls of the church, and he ran a teasing hand in his hair (that on any given day would've made me weak in the knees), while giving me his signature smirk. Except this time, it was different; something was off. The suggestive and gleeful hints in his eyes were gone, and in its place was something of pure evil. He steadily inched closer until I could feel the presence of his hot breath on my chilled skin. I closed my eyes, scared to look at the man before me. This isn't the Dean I know- this is a monster. And even though it's wearing his smirk, his physique, his dirty brown boots, it isn't him._

{Two days ago, 12 pm...}

_There's are sirens, for a welcome, there's bloodstains for your pain._

Duran Duran played over the dusty radio as Dean swaggered into the room, looking like someone stole his pie.

_And the telephone keeps ringing while you're dancing in the rain._

"Okay, who drank the last beer? It sure as hell wasn't Cas, and Ms. I-Don't-Drink-Beer over here doesn't look guilty. " He gave a pointed look at Sam, who was sitting opposite me at the table. We were currently catching up on some angel lore, and books were _everywhere. _"That beer had my name on it."

I looked up at him and smiled.

"Literally or Figuratively?" His pout turned into a sarcastic frown, but it soon faded once he playfully slammed my book shut.

"You drank the last beer, Dean." Sam gave a small laugh and opened his laptop. Giving up, but trying to play it off, Dean sat lazily down next to me, drumming his fingers on the wood.

"Oh, Yeah... Of course I drank the last beer, c'mon!"

I glanced over at Sam, and his eyes were darting about the screen. I knew what that meant.

"You find us a case?" He brushed some of his shaggy, brown hair out of his eyes.

"Girl in Monticello, New York was killed last night while leaving St. John's church. Two days ago, apparently another girl was killed, same time and place." He shut his laptop and sighed.

"So, what do you think? Possible vamp or werewolf case?" Dean raised his eyebrows.

"It could be anything; we should check it out." I shot out of my seat and looked at the brothers. "Pack up your stuff boys, we're headed to my home state!"

/ / /

It's been two years since I started hunting with the Winchesters, two years since they saved me from the vampires that slaughtered my boyfriend and best friend when we all went out one night. I was utterly done, and I thought I'd be alone. But a shining ray of hope came down when they took me in. Two years feel like two months, but at the same time, twenty years. Before this mess, witches and dragons were joyous fantasies, now they are things of nightmares. I knew once I left New York that my life would never be the same. As excited as I was to go back, I was really not looking forward to the terrifying memories that lie there.

I threw on my best Fed attire: a tight grey skirt, white button-down, and a matching grey blazer. Simple, but different than my boring, old pantsuit that I wear on almost every job. I quickly packed up a bag and I was ready to go.

The boys were waiting out by the Impala, sporting their own suits as well. I couldn't help but let my eyes linger on the eldest brother; his dark, navy pants were hugging him in _all_ the right places.

Over the past few months, I started to grow a new liking toward Dean, and I couldn't keep my mind off his charming smile or full lips. It was like seeing him in a whole new way.

"What's with the special getup?" I was snapped out of my not-so-sly mind-humping by Dean's question.

"What do you mean?"

"The uh, skirt. You usually wear pants and-" Sam cut him short with a smirk and turned to me.

"I think Dean is trying to say that you look good, which you do."

"Shut up Sammy." Dean got into the drivers seat and slammed the door, then Sam shot me a wink. I blushed. Was he trying to flirt? I guess Dean isn't as good with the ladies as we all thought. I could have sworn I saw him checking me out in the rearview mirror as I got in the back- a girl can dream.


	2. Church (Hell's) Bells

It was around noon when we arrived. The rumbling of the Impala's engine was a voice in the silent town. Yellow caution tape surrounded police-scattered areas a few meters away from the brick-built church, and police cars and ambulances sat by. Dark, ruby stains splattered the sidewalk. The Impala rolled up, her sleek doors shone in the afternoon sun as we opened them quickly. Sam, Dean, and I strode confidently over to the Sheriff. Dean took charge.

"Hello, I'm agent Vedder and these are my partners, Agents Van Halen and Smith." _How come they get a cool rock star name and I don't? Not fair. Nice, I've been hunting for over a year and all I can think about is my alias? How professional._

I cleared my throat abruptly, receiving a slightly annoyed look from Dean.

"Has there been any more recent deaths since the last incident the other night?" The Sheriff frowned and guided us over to the newest scene.

"Mikayla Martin, 16, went to this church. Attacked last night while walking home, died from a slit throat and severe knife wound in her chest. It's a shame- so young. Hopefully we can catch this son of a gun before it kills any more of our town's children." Mikayla's limp body was lifted and carefully placed on an awaiting gurney. I tried to look away, but I couldn't. Images of devastated families flashed through my mind like lightning. But I kept my moth in a stern line. Sometimes hunting can be hard on your heart, but that is just the way the world works.

After playing feds at the church, we drove to a nearby motel. Luckily, this one had air conditioning, unlike the last one we stayed at in Florida. God, that was _awful_. New York in the fall without air conditioning had "disaster" and "freeze-your-ass-off" written all over it. We got back and changed out of the uncomfortable suits, and back into our usual outfits consisting of flannels and boots.

I placed my duffel down on my bed and sat down on the couch, while Sam and Dean sat by their glowing laptops at the small, round table. I tucked my chilly feet under me as they searched in silence. Normally, Sam and I would be doing the research, and Dean would be doing...anything else. Maybe this was a sign that he'd finally started maturing. As if.

"Did you find any possible connections between the girls?" I asked, as Dean sighed and shut his laptop.

"Other than the fact that they are all young females, No." He plopped down next to me, making the musty couch dip under his added weight "Seems just like a run-of-the-mill demon." He rolled up his sleeves and Sam chimed in, taking a swig of the beer he was nursing.

"If we go down to St. John's tonight, it would match the attack pattern, and we can find the demon and kill it." Dean looked at me with his bright green eyes as I began to speak, and I felt my face go a bit hot when I realized I was close enough to count the millions of light freckles on his nose.

"Um, great! I guess. What uh, time would we head over?" Sam tried to muffle his chuckling caused by my stuttering. _That bitch. He knows I like Dean and he better keep his mouth shut before I let the demon get his ass._

"Around 10 p.m., that's about twenty minutes before each death. 'Should give us enough time to gank the son of a bitch." Dean stood up and put his jacket on swiftly. "We got a few hours to kill, so I say we get us some grub." _As if I can eat after seeing the poor girl's body all mangled and covered in crimson_.

We filed out of the motel room. And I thought I would've lost my mind if dean didn't stop what he was doing. His hand ever so slightly rested on the small of my back as we stepped out of the door. It brought a rosy heat to my cheeks and a fluttery feeling to the pit of my stomach and I wished he hadn't taken his hand away. I curiously turned my head to see his face, and he flashed me a cheery smile, making my heart jump. I looked away, not wanting him to see my flushed face.

When we got to the diner, I didn't order anything. Sam convinced me to have some of his fries but that was all I had room in my stomach for. My nerves were haywire. Between the case anxiety and sudden behavior from Dean. Sure, he was a nasty flirt, that's his personality. Just never like this. Never small, kind ways or gentle touches. I'd never seen him act this way, especially with _me_. I'm the equivalent of a sister and friend and hunting partner- or maybe even something else.

While I munched on the crispy fires, I looked out of the window onto the quiet town. I remembered the old days, before hunting. At least a few times a month, I would pass this town on the way to visit my family, and even eat at this comforting and out-of-date diner. I blinked away tears and tried not to let my emotions take over. There was no time for nostalgia or girly crushes. We had a job to do.

Dean called me "kiddo" and asked if I was okay.

I lied. I put on a smile.

/ / /

_{10:00 p.m., St. John's}_

My heart pounded. The blade at my hip grew heavier with each minute, weighing me down with its possibilities. The moonlight reflected off the stained glass windows, giving an eerie aura.

"Okay, I'll check inside, if it's a strong demon, it could be able to enter. You guys take the sides." Sam threw his hunting duffel over his shoulder and made his way inside, leaving Dean and myself out in the frigid night.

"We got this." I looked to him and he gave a wink. _I sure hope so._

We took off to our separate sides, and I unsheathed my angel blade. Cas gave it to me for my birthday last month, hopefully it will come in handy, maybe even serve as some good luck.


End file.
